


Taking Care

by springwoof



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Humor, Kink, M/M, Rimming, Sexual Humor, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-13
Updated: 2010-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 04:46:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springwoof/pseuds/springwoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That hadn't been as sexy as John imagined it would be. What was his safeword again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care

**Author's Note:**

> Gateful thanks to tesserae for the beta!
> 
> Dedication: To my buddy, Leah, who is utterly awesome in so many ways…

*

John looked back over his shoulder. "Is there a problem, McKay?"

"Hmm? Problem? Oh, no problem, thanks," Rodney said, in a preoccupied tone of voice.

John huffed. "Can we get started sometime this century? Aren't you supposed to be spanking me?" He wriggled a bit to get more comfortable. He was lying across a luxuriously wide hotel bed, perpendicular to Rodney, who was sitting against the headboard, propped up by a lavish quantity of pillows against his back, a pillow supporting his upraised knees. John was draped over Rodney's lap, or at least his hips were, ass prominently displayed for Rodney's attentions. And he was going to start feeling a little silly if they didn't get on with the spanking sometime soon.

But Rodney wasn't getting on with things. One arm lay heavily against John's lower back, pinning him down in a satisfying way, but the other hand wasn't thwacking. Instead, it was…it was… _caressing_ , which was utterly embarrassing.

John wasn't some baby, to have his bottom patted and caressed like that. They were supposed to be having some kinky pre-sex spanking here! John had been a _very_ bad boy!

He peered over his shoulder at Rodney again, but bit down on the acid comment he'd been about to make, designed to prod McKay into action (just like in the field). Rodney's eyelids were at half-mast, the lashes trembling minutely, and he was slowly licking his lips. He looked really, really contented, and just a little bit…… _hungry_ , a look John had seen often enough to recognize, even if it had never been directed toward him.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

"What is it, Rodney?" he ended up asking, voice humiliatingly small and humble.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry." And Rodney delivered a half-hearted spank. It was a really impressively sorry excuse for a spank—hardly more than a hearty pat. John was sure his skin hadn't reddened at all. There hadn't even been any sound! It certainly didn't hurt.

John wriggled again, and Rodney tightened his arm down, holding him still. Okay, that was better! Maybe he'd just been getting warmed up.

Only the next spank was even less hard, more of a really thorough fondling. In fact, it was an _extremely_ thorough fondling, which was still ongoing. Rodney's big hand was massaging John's right asscheek, fingers trailing lightly over the crease where buttock met thigh, dipping to stroke the inside of his thigh just behind his balls, making John shiver. Okay, yeah, his dick kinda liked that.

Maybe they were skipping the kinky hijinks and getting right to the sex this time. John could go along with that. He was a flexible guy. Rodney had said so, many times before—sometimes in very admiring tones.

John started to hump Rodney's lap, his dick stroking over Rodney's thighs and balls, his side stroking Rodney's cock sideways. It wasn't bad, although he thought they could use some slick stuff down there if they were really gonna do this.

"Stop that!" Rodney said irritably, tightening his arm again, and delivering a solid thwack to John's rump.

"Ow!" John complained. That hadn't been as sexy as he'd imagined it would be. In fact, he'd really been enjoying the humping more. Maybe they should skip the spanking part altogether. What was his safeword again?

John twisted his head back over his shoulder to ask Rodney what his safeword was, and saw Rodney bending over John's ass. Rodney could be a flexible guy, too—when he wanted to be. He kissed John's asscheek, then delicately licked the edges of warmth, where John guessed the reddened imprint of his hand must be. John flopped his head back down onto his folded arms. Okay, he could deal with this. This wasn't too bad.

Rodney's delicate licks turned to broad, wet, slick strokes of his tongue over the whole area of heat, and then inward, toward the crack of John's ass. John began to shiver again. His dick was kind of liking this, but the rest of him wasn't so sure. It was a little intense.

"Um," John began to protest, only to earn another solid whack on the other cheek.

"Quiet!" Rodney commanded. John bit his lip. The spank had hurt again, but apparently his cock was pretty happy with the aftermath, as Rodney again treated him to the kiss, lick, sloppy-lick routine. In fact, his cock was pretty much drooling precome; he could feel the wetness coating the tip, making it hypersensitive as it stroked, almost incidentally, across Rodney's thighs.

Rodney delivered a little nip on the meaty part of John's buttcheek. John couldn't help the "Ah!" that escaped, but it was punished nevertheless, with two spanks that didn't sound as hard as the first two had been, but stung like fire anyway on his already reddened cheeks.

"I _said_ , be _quiet_ ," Rodney told him mildly, and began his kissing and licking routine on the most newly-punished areas of John's rump.

John bit his lip again, and stretched out his arms to grip sheets and the edge of the bed as well. He jumped a little when Rodney's fingers spread his cheeks apart, and Rodney began to kiss the skin along the crack, but he wasn't punished for that.

Then Rodney started licking broad, wet strokes across John's hole, and John couldn't help a whimper. He tensed for another whack, but Rodney just continued to lick, making his tongue pointy and—oh, God—dipping it a little ways inside. Maybe Rodney was just too—holy FUCK!—busy right now to remember the spanking part.

Other sounds escaped John's mouth, but Rodney seemed too concerned with trying to lick John's brains out via his ass to complain about it. John's brains were definitely on hiatus, because he didn't remember when he'd spread his thighs apart like that, or the part where he'd lifted up his ass (apparently for Rodney's comfort, because Rodney was hardly bending over at all now, still licking away like John's ass was a lollipop), or the part where he was leaning his forehead on the bed, and panting out "please, please, please, please" on the sheets.

Rodney seemingly approved of that particular vocalization, because the hand that wasn't occupied with holding open John's ass for easier tongue-access came up and enclosed John's cock in a tight, slickslickslick (clever, _clever_ , multitasking McKay!) fist.

John wailed, bucked twice into Rodney's slippery fingers, and onto his slippery tongue, then came and came and came.

John flopped down. He was vaguely aware of Rodney muttering about his aching back and the sacrifices he made in the name of John Sheppard's orgasms, felt himself being manhandled, and the cool touch of some kind of wipe, but it didn't seem important enough to think about.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he became aware that Rodney was rimming his asshole again, this time with lube-wet fingers. An electric sensation sizzled across his nerves and his hole tightened around Rodney's fingertips.

Rodney chuckled, his voice dark and somehow filthy. "Liked that, eh?" And he slid a slippery finger in to stroke and explore. When it found John's prostate, he nearly jumped off the bed.

"Hey, stop that," Rodney complained. "You don't need me to spank you again, do you?"

And, oh holy fuck, his dick apparently had learned to like that a _lot_ because it twitched and started to get hard again.

Rodney chuckled again in a really obscene way. "Maybe later, then. Right now, I want to fuck you." And then two fingers were massaging John's prostate. John gave a hoarse shout at the sensation.

Suddenly Rodney withdrew his fingers and gave a stinging spank to John's ass, which reminded him that it had been spanked thoroughly already, thank you. "I told you to keep _quiet_ , Sheppard!" Rodney hissed. "We're in a hotel room, for pity's sake. They can probably hear us really well in the next room."

But, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, his dick had really, _really_ learned to like the spanking thing, because it was all the way hard once more, and throbbing in time to the heat in his poor abused butt. John whimpered, and just barely held off from humping Rodney's leg again. Instead, he tried the begging, which had worked really well the last time. "Please, please, please. Please fuck me, Rodney. Oh, fuck, please, I want your cock."

Thankfully, Rodney obliged him, manhandling him some more until he was in a Rodney-approved position—on elbows and knees, arms braced against the headboard, ass up the air—and then he felt Rodney's cock slide in with one slow, steady, ruthless thrust. Rodney's hands were bracing John's hips, anchoring him against the overwhelming sensation of being _fucking impaled_ , against the flare of instinctive panic that made him want to both pull away and shove himself back to get that cock in deeper.

Both of them were panting harshly, and every exhalation brushed Rodney's cock against John's prostate again. Distantly, John became aware that his own exhalations had a tiny whine in them, and he grabbed a pillow and crammed his mouth against it before he started yelling at Rodney to hurry up and goddam _fuck_ him already. Rodney had a point about hotel walls being kinda thin, and John had just enough functioning brain cells left to remember that someone calling the management on them because of the noise would be Bad.

Finally, Rodney began to thrust into him, slowly at first, but with an extra little shove at the end of each thrust, like the jolts from a rollercoaster on its way up the first big lift hill. John felt him changing angles slightly, until, oh God, _there_ —over the top, the 'coaster screaming down the track, g-forces slamming into John in a thrill that would never get old.

The pleasure was ratcheting up impossibly higher and higher, his untouched dick throbbing with it, his completely and thoroughly touched ass _definitely_ throbbing with it. His hands clawing into the sheets, John cursed and sobbed into the pillow. His toes curled with the tension as he felt Rodney's rhythm start to get ragged.

John made an attempt to jack his own dick, but his hands wouldn't unclench their attack on the sheets. He lifted his face from the pillow long enough to gasp, "Goddamit, Rodney, fucking _touch_ me. I need, oh God, please, I need—"

And then Rodney's hand, that glorious, wonderful hand with those clever clever fingers did some ingenious rubbing twisting thing on John's dick, and then he had to bury his face in the pillow again because he was in freefall, shouting as he came, his balls squeezing out every ounce of semen in his body.

He could feel his ass squeezing around Rodney's dick, and Rodney's thrusts got wild, just _shoving_ in there, pounding a few extra times on John's prostrate to stretch out an already dizzyingly intense orgasm. Rodney shouted "FUCK!" and froze as he came, hand momentarily squeezing John's too-sensitive cock. It made John whimper and jerk away, which shoved his ass harder against Rodney, who made a strangled sound, then collapsed over John's back.

They slowly sank onto the bed, panting and so very sweaty. Rodney was limp, and heavy, but John was too post-orgasmic to complain about it yet. He must have dozed a little, because the next thing he knew, Rodney's dick had gone soft enough to slip out, and Rodney had fumbled around and extracted the condom.

"Off," John managed, and Rodney complied, sliding the rest of the way off of him. He must have dozed again, because he was very vaguely aware of further manhandling of his body, and a reprise of the cleaning activities with a damp wipe, but it might have been a dream for all he knew.

The next thing he was aware of was a cool sensation on his butt, which decided to take advantage of his attention by throbbing at him. "Ow," John muttered.

"Did that hurt?" The spreading of the cooling sensation stopped, and John realized that Rodney must be putting something on his ass to take care of the pain.

"No, sorry, go ahead," John urged him, shivering slightly when Rodney's fingers started spreading the cool, slick lotion on his ass again.

"Are you okay? It doesn't hurt too bad?" The tiniest thread of worry infused Rodney's voice.

"Nah. Not bad. I've had worse sparring with Ronon," John answered absently.

The wetness of the lotion made it sound extra-loud when Rodney smacked him on the ass again.

"Hey, OW!" John complained, pulling away. "The spanking is just for kinky sex, not for your general amusement!"

"We said no mention of other team-members while we were in bed. You're the one who made that rule." Rodney hauled him back and started to apply the lotion again to the renewed heat on John's rump. He traced a cool line along the curve of John's ass, right next to the crack, and John's treacherous, evil penis managed to twitch with interest.

"Fuck."

Rodney kissed his lower back. "I don't have to ask if you liked that. You want another spanking? I bet you could get it up again."

"No, no, no," John groaned, at both Rodney and his own stirring dick. "I'll need to sit down sometime this week at the SGC. There are only so many workout-related soreness excuses they'll buy before they send me in to see the Doc." Good. _That_ image calmed his cock down.

"Point," Rodney acknowledged. He spread more lotion, carefully covering every bit of skin. John began to get relaxed again, heading once more towards sleep. "I didn't think I'd like spanking you," Rodney remarked conversationally. "I don't like the idea of hurting you. But you looked really hot, squirming on my lap like that."

"Mmm. Told you it would be sexy," John gloated drowsily. "I have really good ideas, don't I?"

"So do I. You really liked the rimming, didn't you?"

"Mmm," John sighed contentedly.

"Mmm," Rodney agreed. "For next time, I'm going to buy a toy. As long as we're already on Earth. There must be a decent sex shop in Denver. Or maybe online. I'm thinking a plug, maybe with a vibrator." Rodney's slick finger began to trace delicately around John's asshole again. John's asshole voted that it wasn't too sore, and began to spasm around the tip of Rodney's finger. John's dick decided that it didn't want the ass to have all the fun and began to twitch again. John groaned.

"And maybe a paddle too," Rodney's voice had a smile in it. John's dick twitched some more. Oh, crap, not again. "So I can get really good coverage," Rodney continued. "And you'll really feel it when the plug keeps bumping up against your prostrate as I spank you with the paddle." Rodney's finger slipped deeper inside, spreading the lotion, his touch very light.

"Fuck, Rodney," John complained, but spread his legs, raising his ass up a little as his cock continued to fill.

"No, I'm not going to fuck you again right now," Rodney said. "For one thing, my dick's not the Energizer Bunny yours is. For another, you did have a point about having to sit down sometime this week. Here, turn on your side." He kissed the side of John's flank, his finger slowly stroking closer to John's prostate, but not quite there. John obeyed him, cupping a protective hand around his groin. He was forty years old, his stupid cock shouldn't be able to do this so soon.

Once John had maneuvered onto his side, Rodney lifted John's upper leg, then shouldered his upper body between John's legs. His finger never left its place buried in John's ass, never quitting the delicate stroking.

With one leg lifted and slung over Rodney's ribs, the other leg pinned down under Rodney's bulk, and his ass skewered by the other man's finger, John felt pretty damned exposed and vulnerable. His idiot dick apparently liked the sensation, but John didn't. He told his dick to shut up; he didn't have to listen to it. "Rodney," he started. "Maybe this isn't such a—"

"Hey," Rodney interrupted him in a soft voice, and chose that moment to stroke John's prostate. John's cock throbbed, arguing that no, really, this was a very, very good idea. Rodney followed up by kissing the hand John had cupped around his package, then kissing the belly just above John's groin. "Let me give you a nice blowjob," he whispered persuasively to John's belly.

John's cock gave another compelling little throb.

John looked down and met Rodney's gaze. "For me. Really," Rodney whispered hoarsely. "You know how much I love to give you blowjobs." And Rodney's eyes were already dreamy-looking, pupils dilated, his mouth very slightly open, lips moist. John could just barely see the tip of Rodney's tongue.

John slowly lowered his hand away from his dick, and used two fingers to trace Rodney's talented lips. "I'm still pretty sensitive."

Rodney kissed his fingers, half-lidded eyes warm with affection. "I'll be gentle," he promised, and took John's half-hard cock into his mouth.

John dropped his head back onto the mattress with a thump, and shivered all over. Rodney's mouth was very soft and very, very wet on his dick, and Rodney's finger stroked very, very lightly and continuously over his prostate. "Oh! Oh, Rodney. So good," John husked, his voice breaking a little.

He clumsily petted Rodney's head, not trying to direct him, just needing the feel of him under his hand, needing to be grounded a little. Because he was flying so high right now, he felt a little drunk on the pleasure. It was just this side of enjoyment, of feeling really fucking good, instead of the discomfort that lurked around the very edges and made the pleasure somehow sharper.

John coasted on delight for an endless span of time, his voice too screamed-out for him to do more than moan softly, brokenly, and pant. It was so _good._

Eventually, John realized that he just wasn't going to get all the way hard again. And he certainly wasn't going to come again. Rodney must have realized it, too, because he slowly pulled off of John's dick, and slid his finger gently out of John's ass, before pleasure turned the corner into pain.

Rodney kissed John's balls and his thigh, then lightly patted the curve of John's ass. John's cock valiantly tried to wake up again, its spanking kink firmly entrenched, but John told it to shut the hell up and go to sleep.

John was feeling pretty sleepy himself. As Rodney extracted himself from his position between John's legs, John let himself begin to drift off. He complained when Rodney bundled him up and into the bathroom.

"If you go now, you won't have to go in the middle of the night." Rodney was implacable. "You know I'm right." John grumbled, but took care of business on automatic, trusting Rodney not to let him fall into the toilet. Rodney's indistinct mumbling as he brushed his teeth was soothing background noise. Except when he sucked dick, Rodney always tried to talk with his mouth full, seeming not to care if anyone could actually understand him.

Rodney had to support him on the way back to the bed. "You're weaving like a drunk," Rodney protested.

"Sleepy," John informed him.

"You're just lucky I enjoy taking care of you," Rodney answered, maneuvering him onto a section of the bed that was magically free of wet spots and draping a sheet over him.

John reached out and snagged Rodney's hand, bringing to his lips and kissing it. "Mmm. Next time, I'll spank _your_ ass and fuck _you_ ," John promised. He enjoyed Rodney's silent outrage over that answer for a moment. _He_ didn't need to resort to violence to get Rodney to be quiet. He had a whole _arsenal_ of Rodney-handling skills.

He squeezed Rodney's hand and turned over, burrowing into the pillow to hide his smirk. "I like to take care of you too, buddy."

After another moment, he heard Rodney huff, then felt the bed dip as Rodney joined him. He waited for the kiss on the back of his neck and the feel of Rodney's arm around his waist as he spooned behind him.

Then he dove into sleep, like diving into deep water.

###


End file.
